Strider pt 2
by algaratesara
Summary: I wrote this for class, pls don't be too harsh This is my interpretation of what happened with Aragorn and the rangers. this takes place in between Battle of the Five Armies and Fellowship of the Ring


Algarate 13

Sara Algarate-Carter

ENGL-211G-M02

Rachael Krygsman

Strider

I ride west towards Arnor. I could no longer stay in Gondor, my home. The people were starting to learn my true heritage, and many asked for me to reclaim the throne. I refused them all. How could they understand the burden I bear? The pressure of repeating the dark past has been a constant thought in my mind. That is why I head west, to find the Dunedain rangers. Men who have no claim, men looking for a purpose in life. I am hoping I can join their camp and find peace with the past. If not, I fear there is no where else for me to go.

I have been riding for the past six months. My horse, Brego, has worn tired and needs rest. However, I do not want to stop. We have passed the Shire and entered a thick pine forest. Rabbits and foxes dash in between the tree trunks, and sparrows chirp for the last time as the sun dips below the tree line. The encampment should be close. Although the rangers do not have a permanent settlement, they follow the hunt. I have found tracks of men made only a week ago. They surely should be close. I look around trying to see a faint glow of a campfire. The rustle of a bush. There is nothing, it is dead silent. Not even the ravens crow_._ The hairs on my neck stand up._ There is something not right_, I think_, maybe we should settle for the night._ "Whoa, Brego!" I tell my horse. He halts to a stop.

I jump down from his britches. I grab his reins and tie them to the nearest tree. I turn to pet his nose, his withers twitch with anticipation and he gives a happy neigh. I chuckle "Get some rest, we have had a long day."

I walk to the nest nearest pine and break off the lowest hanging branches. I walk back to Brego and dump the branches on the ground. I fix them into a wood pile and start to build a fire. By rubbing two logs together and blowing where they meet, I am able to create sparks that catch flame to the log. I sit back, proud of my work. My eyes close slowly and I drift into sleep.

I awake to the snap of a nearby stick. I bolt upright, in doing so my throat runs into metal. There is a knife at my throat and six men surrounding me. I breathe heavily trying to resist the stinging at my throat. I search around bug-eyed. The leader seemed to have white hair as long as his waist. A bow is fitted in one hand and the other pulling back an arrow. The arrowhead pointed right at my heart. "What is your business in these woods?" he asked.

"I am looking for the Dunedain rangers. I am Isildur's heir. I wish to join in their brotherhood."

All the men whisper amongst each other. _The heir to Isildur! The true king! How could he leave his people? What a selfish man to come here_. The white-haired man gleamed at me with cold blue eyes. "Then it seems your wish has come true. I am Maeglin, captain of the rangers. Welcome to the brotherhood."

I feel the knife being lowered from my throat. The men hold out their arms, as a sign of hello. I grab each with a firm shake. "Come, ready your horse. We will bring you to our camp," Maeglin says turning his horse west. I grab Brego's reins and quickly untie him from the tree. The other rangers are disappearing behind Maeglin on their horses. I stick my foot in the stir-ups and hoist myself onto the horse's back. I give a slight kick and we trot behind the rangers_. Is my ancestry truly that powerful? Only a name, a name I regret to say, gained the trust of six men,_ I think. _Does a name hold that much power? _I think quietly to myself as Brego follows the other horses further into the forest and closer to my new home.

We ride through the night and arrive to the encampment at dawn. I expected a few pitched tents and little men. However, there seems to be fifty tents and over a hundred men bustling to and from. The Brandywine River rushes nearby and I hear a blacksmith's hammer in the distance. The smell of firewood and cooking meat fills my nose. A sharp neigh turns my head quickly to see a stable with about forty horses ready to ride at a moment's notice. Maeglin reverts my attention back to the group "This is the Brandywine camp. Our commander is _Egladhrim. You must speak with him if you wish to stay. It is his decision alone."_

_He hops of his horse and stomps into the largest tent. I dismount Brego, give him a small pat of reassurance and follow Maeglin. _

_The floor of the tent is covered in animal pelts of foxes and deer. The walls are decorated with red paint with ancient elvish writing. From one hangs a painting depicting the moment when Isildur cuts the rung from Sauron's finger. I feel my chest tighten. It seems everywhere I go I can not escape my past. I focus on the man sitting behind a large oak desk. He has pointed ears and dark hair pulled back in an intricate braid. His hands are folded in front of him and his stern eyes seem fixated on me. Maeglin bows, "Commander, we found this man in the forest. He he was searching for us wishes to join the rangers. His name is Aragorn, he claims to be the heir to Isildur himself."_

_Egladhrim's ears perk up like a dog. He turns to his ranger "Thank you Maeglin, you may go."_

_Maelgin bows again, turns on one foot and exits the tent, leaving me and Egladhrim alone. He scans me from head to toe. "So what brings the heir of the crown to my camp?" _

_I bow, "I come seeking to leave my past behind and to learn the ways of the Dunedain rangers."_

_"I do not care for your past, and I do not care of your ancestry. We are all royal blood here. Of whom you got it from is no importance to me. All I care about is how you can help better my camp grow or if you will burden us further," he says sternly._

_"With all due respect sir, I do not care for my past either. I am simply looking for a new home. That is my main priority."_

_He looks at me questioningly. "How bad could the life of Isildur's heir truly be if he has come to my feet begging to be accepted? If you have come here to try and overthrow my position as commander, you mistook me for a fool boy."_

_"No!" I yell. "I assure you sir I plot no such thing. You have my word." __They don't know,__ I think__, no one truly knows why I seek solitude__. _

_Egladhrim stands from his chair and walks around the desk to face me. "If I allow you to stay, you must pull your own weight and make your way up the ranks on your own. As I said, names have no significance here. You will start as a stable boy. Talk to __Helevorn, he will give you a tent and show you the camp."_

_"Thank you, sir. You will not regret it." I bow and turn to leave._

_"Aragorn!" I turn. "If I feel you are causing a disturbance to my men, we will not be on good terms. Do not speak to them of your blood. Do you understand?" __Egladhrim says._

_"Yes sir." I exit the tent._

_The Dunedain rangers of the north are all descendants of royal blood. When the elves first arrived to Middle Earth they married men and made a cross-breed of men and elves. These men live longer, have the grace and agility of the elves whilst also gaining the strength of men. The children were taught the elvish language, and many have elvish names. In the First Age, the children were taught how to wield swords and bows by the elves themselves. As time passed, men and elves started to conflict. So men took over the training. Only the blood of the current king were taught the battle strategies of elves, thus losing the legacy. Now, only a few remain who know the ancient tongue and skills. I am one of the few._

_The rangers are respected as great warriors who protect the free-folk of Hobbiton and Bree and have been known to occasionally help in battle when they feel their aid is needed. They roam from place to place, seeking a brotherhood they no longer can find in the modern world. The rangers are rugged, harsh men who prefer solitude except for their brethren and are rarely seen excluding in the time of need. They stick to surviving and carrying on their legacy of royal blood. _

_As I walk towards the stables, which I can find from the smell of horse dung and the distinct neighing, I feel as if I am walking back into history. Many of the men how pointed ears like Maelgin and Egladhrim, showing a closer relationship to their elvish heritage. Others look like regular men but with a more graceful stride and higher cheek bones. They watch me as I pass, aware of the outsider who has entered their camp. They whisper about the new comer, and what fortune he may bring. Others snarl, claiming they don't have the resources to feed another man. I try to keep my head up, knowing I belong here and they are suspicious of outsiders, I will show them I belong here._

_I arrive at the stables and stick my head around the corner. "Hello?" I say. "I am looking for __Helevorn."_

_A stout man I would mistaken for a dwarf pokes his head from one of the corals. "Over here son!" he shouts._

_I walk towards him and he extends his arm. I firmly grasp his shoulder and he mine. A proper greeting among elves. "Greeting friend. I am Helevorn. What is your name?"_

_I pause. I traveled here for a fresh start, and I do not want my past to follow me. __Egladhrim's words echo in my ears. __Do not speak to them of your blood. Do you understand?__ "Strider, my name is Strider."_

_"Welcome to the Dunedain, Strider. I think you will enjoy your time here, yes most indeed," he beams. "For your first job, you can help me feed the horses. Your horse was already escorted in. He is in the furthest stable to the right if you would like to check on him. After, the hay is located just outside. Give each one about three handfuls." Helevorn waddles off at a happy gait._

_The stables are much larger than I anticipated. There seems to be at least eighty horses under a giant pitched roof held by giant oak trunks. Many are sleeping with one hoof dangling just above the ground. Some whinny as I make my way to Brego. They come in all colors and sizes. The largest, _Maeglin;s horse, is a gorgeous grey-silver with tar black hair. His rear end is covered with white speckles and his dark eyes seem to watch me as I pass by. I finally reach Brego, and he greets me with a neigh. "Hello old friend, good to see you." I chuckle.

He shakes his withers, a sign he wants to be stroked. I unfasten the stable door and enter his quarters. I happily pet him from his left shoulder all the way down to his ribs. He huffs, expanding his ribcage. _What have I gotten ourselves into? Was this the right decision?_ I knew I would not be welcomed with open arms; however, this is not what I expected. _No, I quickly think, this was the right decision. I came here to forget my past. I can start by doing my duties._ I leave Brego to sleep and look and head out of the stables to look for the hay. As I am exiting, I accidentally bump shoulders with a man causing a man to knock the firewood out of his arms. "I am so sorry, sir. Let me help you," I say bending over to pick up the logs.

"No problem brother, it was a mist-" he stops short. He glares down at me, recognizing who I am. "It's true. You really have come here." He sneers.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Who I am is irrelevant, considering you will only be here for a few days. If you even last that long," he laughs. "You are not welcome here. Slither back into the hole from whence you came." He stomps off in the opposite direction.

Not insulted by his words, I grab a bale of hay, throw it over my shoulder and head back into the stables.

. . .

After what seems like many hours and many more hay bales later, I finish giving the last horse hay as Helevorn waddles back in. "Good evening. How are you holding up?"

"Very well. I much prefer animals over people."

"I agree, brother. That reminds me. _Egladhrim wishes to see you in his tent. Thank you for the help," he says beaming ear to ear._

_I give a slight bow of gratitude and make my way to Egladhrim. As I walk outside, I notice the sky has turned a dark blue casting shadows between the clouds. A purple tint is more apparent on the horizon, twilight. The rangers seem to have gone to bed for the night, for I am the only one out at this hour. My tread leaves fresh footprints behind and a quite __squelch__ as my foot sinks into the thick, over-worked mud. I find myself at the threshold of Egladhrim's tent. I take a deep breath. I pull back the curtains and enter. _

_Egladhrim is still behind his desk, writing a note. "Step forward, Aragorn. I do not care for when my men hover in the doorway."_

_I walk in and stand in front of the desk, hands folded in front of me. "I asked to see me sir?"_

_"Yes, I did." He stops writing and looks up at me for the first time. "How was your first day here? Do you still wish to stay?"_

_"Yes sir. I am most grateful for the hospitality."_

_Egladhrim sighs. "I can tell you're a good man, Aragorn. And I wish to like you. I see great potential in you. However, a lot of men do not feel the same. They see new comers as a threat, and you are most likely their biggest threat yet." He pulls two sheets of paper from a drawer and lays it across the desk. "Never in my forty-three years have I received not one, but two letters of good words about a new recruit." Seeing my confused face, he straightens in his seat. "So you did not know. Good." He pushes the letters closer to me. "One would appear to be from Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the other from the Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien. It seems you have friends in very high places. They raved highly of you and ask of me to place as a captian," he looks down at the papers "As great allies and providers of the rangers, I can not refuse their offer. As of tomorrow, you will join_ Maeglin's unit." He signs again, this time a bit heavier. "You will get a lot of retaliation for this."

"I expected nothing less, sir. I can manage myself just fine with all due respect."

_Egladhrim nods. "Good. Now go get some rest. Your tent is at the end of the row to the left."_

_I give a swift bow and exit the tent. The thought of Lord Elrond sending a letter talking of my adventures and accomplishments to better my chances with the rangers dumbfounds me. We have not spoken since I asked for Arwen's hand in marriage.__ Arwen__. I stop dead in my tracks. The thought of her makes a pain grow in my heart and the thought of her voice sends a shiver up my spine. I clear my head with a quick shake and continue toward my tent. Yet I still think of her. I hear a bush rustle to my right and sharply turn but pass it off as a nearby rabbit. As I continue, I think I hear whispers and stop abruptly. I listen again . . . and hear nothing. I continue walking. I reach my tent and pull the sheet back. I fall into my feather-stuffed bed and drift into sleep, thinking of the woman I met in the gardens of Rivendell. I pass into a deep sleep, with her still in my mind._

_I awake in the gardens of Rivendell laying on a couch. I know because the sound of the rushing waterfall, the gladioli's sweet scent and the woman standing in front of me. She has long black hair past her waist and wears a white dress with long sleeves, so long the material near her wrists brush the ground. She turns around, facing me. Her ears are pointed, her ice blue eyes are familiar. "Arwen," I say._

_She smiles at me. A smile that lights up my dark world. She takes a step forward. "Aragorn, I have missed you," her voice sings._

_I sit up, take a step toward her. I long for her touch. "This is a dream."_

_She takes another step forward, a smirk on her face. "Then it is a good dream."_

_I bridge the gap and grab her by the waist. I pull her close to me, lean into her lips. They graze each other at first, then harder. We kiss for an eternity, but it is not long enough. She is the first to pull away. "Aragorn, you must head home. Back to Gondor." _

_I pull away, not happy with her statement. "What do you imply?" _

_"It is your destiny. You must reclaim the throne, you are the last living heir. If the steward remains on the throne, I fear for the fate of Middle-Earth."_

_I hang my head and grasp her hands. "You know why I fled. You have seen my nightmares. If I return, I fear for the fate of Middle-Earth. Because I will be the tool of its destruction."_

"_That is not true. How can you let a past haunt you when you have the power to correct it?"_

_I look her in the eyes. "If Isildur could not resist the power if the ring what is to say I will not do the same? I have seen it. Someone on the edge of a cliff inside Mount Doom. Dangling the ring of power over the molten rock and then taking it back for himself. History is meant to repeat itself, Arwen. And I can not be a part of it. It will ruin me."_

_She looks at me with concern, the palm of her hand caresses my face. "If the world was covered in darkness, not by your hand but another's, would it not still be dark? How would you live with yourself then if you did not do everything in your power to prevent the very thing you see everyday in your dreams? You are not a bad man, Aragorn. You fear for things that have not yet been set in motion because of the actions of your ancestors. You are not them, nor will you ever be. You already are a greater man then they ever were. Remembering that will help you overcome the demons that taunt you," she releases her hands and turns to face a window in the room. "I am only here to guide you on the right path. If you wish for us to be together you must remember my father's words. He will not give his daughter away unless you reclaim the throne of Arnor and Gondor," she says with sadness in her voice._

_I reach for her hand again "Arwen!"_

I awake in my tent back in the Dunedain camp. I look around, confused and frazzled, for Arwen. My breathing is rapid and heavy, so I try to take calm deep breaths. I turn over in my bed and try to go back to sleep. However, Arwen's words ring in my ears. She is right, I must prove myself for her, Elrond, and the future. If not, Middle-Earth could fall in darkness forever.

I rise with the sun. A thin line of sunshine streams through my tent and hits me in my eyes. I sit up, stretch, throw my feet over the bed and stand up. I dress myself for the day, grab my sword in the corner and leave.

As soon as I step out, I can tell something is wrong. I look at my feet and can see many fresh footprints made by man leading in and out of my tent. The most recent are about two inches deep, as if someone had been standing for a long time. I follow them with my eyes into a nearby bush. As I take a step back, something leaps at me. I unsheathe my sword and hold it in front of me for protection. I hear a loud clang. I open my eyes and see I have crossed swords with the man I bumped into the day before behind the barn. "You overprivileged scum!" he yells, "How dare you spread your name around like a king when you have been here but a day!"

I spin my sword around his, grinding the metal. Now, I am able to point my sword directly at him. Other rangers have heard the commotion and start gathering around the man and me. "I don't know who you are, but I have done no such thing."

The man laughs, lowers his sword. He turns to the other rangers with his hands extended. "Dunedain! I would like to present to you the Isildur's heir. The man who is responsible for the fall of Middle-Earth." He gives a swift bow. "Now, _Egladhrim wishes for history to repeat itself. On the day you arrived, he makes you captain. I have been here for six years and still a lowly ranger. How dare you!" he lunges at me raising his sword. I block his blow, coming face to face with him. "Yes, I am Isildur's heir. I am the rightful King of Gondor. I am here to help my people and fix the problems my ancestors have created." I push him back, making him lose his balance. I hit him in the head with the handle of my sword causing him to lie on his back in the mud. I point my sword at his throat. I have pinned him down. His face is red with anger, embarrassed I have beat him in front of the whole camp. As I lower my sword, I hear an uproar behind me. I turn, Egladhrim is pushing his way through the crowd. Finally, he faces me and sees the man on the ground with my sword in hand. "Aragorn, my tent. Now."_

_I walk into Egladhrim's tent, my head held down in shame. He sits at his desk, his eyes sparkle like he holds a secret. "Aragorn, your hunting party is saddled and ready to ride. Are you prepared?"_

_"I'm sorry, sir. Am I not here to be banished from the camp?" I asked confused._

_"Banished? Nothing will happen of the sorts. You will resume your duty as a captain of the Dunedain. Your scuffle today has no weigh on my decisions, only more in favor of you because I know you show leadership. The men respect you now. You have proven yourself. Be happy, this is a great victory for you in the long journey you wish to accomplish. Am I correct?" he asks raising one eyebrow. _

_"Yes, it is." I leave the tent._

_. . . 10 YEARS LATER . . . _

Don't forget to add a guide to Sindarin as source


End file.
